Monthly Archives: October 2013

Lou Reed is gone, and the last few days have found the internet afire with deserving tributes to the man and his work. There are of course many angles one can use to add further laudatory thoughts, but after pulling out numerous LPs in remembrance, all of this writer’s roads led back to his amazing and underrated 1973 album Berlin.

Thinking about it, the title of Transformer is truly apropos, for the record found Lou Reed morphing from an inhabitant of the musical fringe and into a legitimate commercial property as he scored a victory for the serious-side of glam-rock. Not a particularly astute observation, I know. But the name of Reed’s second solo LP also serves as an accurate descriptor of the man’s subsequent career trajectory. And yeah, I’m sure that’s already been said numerous times, but it bears repeating.

For in the annals of rock ‘n’ roll, no major figure managed to confound expectations to the extent and for as long as Reed did. Neil Young had a nice run at it, but compared to Lou he’s Bruce Springsteen, though it is true that the in the 1980s Reed started smoothing things out a bit. And beginning with ‘89’s New York he commenced a run of five records that gave a lengthy but false impression of the man adjusting to middle age and even accepting rock elder status.

But the appearance of 2003’s The Raven, a guest-star heavy Poe-focused concept disc, saw the mask loosening, and with the release of the T’ai chi-inspired meditational music of The Hudson River Wind Meditations in ’07, the jig was up. The next year began a series of collaborations; the first, The Stone: Issue Three, is a plunge into hairy-assed improv-skronk with his wife Laurie Anderson and NYC sax titan John Zorn, and the second is The Creation of the Universe, a lengthy experimental noise whopper by a group credited as Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Trio that was made available via Reed’s website.

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You’re alone in the dark, and the only voices of reason you have are your thoughts. Don’t be fooled; darkness is not a place of solitude. Sounds that are ordinarily mundane, like a dripping faucet or a creaky wood floor, become amplified, grabbing your undivided attention. If you’re devoid of light for too long, these sounds might completely betray you.

Welcome to the sadistic and moribund world of Halloween. Below we’ve compiled a list of song with lyrics and situations that will make you look behind your back and perhaps leave you scared…shitless.

Megadeth – Go to Hell

Don’t fear the reaper? That’s nonsense when your soul is wagered on a game of eternal blackjack. The Charon, the ghastly oarsman that shepherds souls, bears little comparison to the fateful entity that has dominion over the realm of fire and brimstone. Uncorrupted minds everywhere: if you hear Dave Mustaine’s verses, rebuke them immediately. Or damnation will be upon you.

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While we’ve grown to be a bit agnostic when it comes to the twice yearly parachute drop of physical product into the local mom and pop record shops, one gem has come onto our radar we’d like to put on yours for Black Friday, 2013. The Stiff Records Ten Big Stiffs 7″ box set houses a double handful of the legendary label’s singular achievements—and a mere 1,000 of them will be available to purchase come Friday, 11/29.

In addition, we’ve been given 2 T-shirts to give away to herald the arrival of Ten Big Stiffs, but first some official background:

“Founded in 1976, Stiff Records was at the heart of the new wave, bringing the world artists as diverse as Elvis Costello, Kirsty MacColl and Ian Dury and what is generally regarded as the first ever punk rock single, “New Rose” by The Damned. The label set the yardstick for music business marketing, with artwork by Barney Bubbles and an array of memorable slogans, not least “If It Ain’t Stiff, It Ain’t Worth A Fuck.”

Stiff continues to this day, with the 2012 UK #1 single “Bom Bom” by Sam And The Womp and a back catalog comprising 150 singles and more than 50 albums of revered 70s and 80s pop, punk, and rock.

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“My dad is a drummer, and while I was growing up he played in several funk/soul/blues bands. I remember vividly looking at the covers of all his mostly 80s vinyl, full of Prince, Michael Jackson, Rick James, Tina Turner, and even that Eddie Murphy record. Needless to say, there were lots of jheri curls, men in dance belts, and variations on the jumpsuit.”

“Growing up in the blanche suburbs of Minneapolis, it goes without saying that I didn’t have the best grasp on a normative African-American male image. These album covers were part of my norm. My mother was also a seamstress and made many of my brother’s and my outfits to reverse color match (she had a line of matching mother daughter wear.) Again, I assumed this was just the norm.

I loved spandex (and still do), tap dancing, James Brown and his loyal side man, Maceo. I knew that the words “give the drummer some” or “tighten up” meant a good time was to be had. I played saxophone from the age of 10, and joined my dad’s 10-man soul band on some of those funk dates once my chops were decent. In my pre-adolescence, my dad’s vinyl collection seemed to be a portal to a distant but very real world. The crackly sound of the needle dropping affirmed these strange kindred spirits were living out the very lives pictured on the big, tactile jackets while I was growing faint facial hair in my parent’s basement.

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Even though he had some hits, Otis Clay never achieved great fame as a soul man. He’s made some fine discs over the years however, and if prime soul circa the early-‘70s fits into your bag, then you may want to check out the reissue of Trying to Live My Life without You. Initially released in 1972 by Hi Records, a definite signifier of soul quality, the LP is currently being offered on vinyl by Fat Possum. Amongst other redeeming qualities, it’s serves as the best representation of his work under the auspices of renowned producer Willie Mitchell.

Though he’s accumulated numerous honors and is still active today, Otis Clay’s career continues to be defined by the records he cut in the 1970s for the Hi imprint of Memphis, Tennessee. And those who recognize Hi as the label responsible for one of the greatest of all soul movers Al Green should have no problem understanding why Clay’s tenure there produced his most famous stuff.

At the time, Green certainly overshadowed every other Hi artist including the consistent hit-maker Ann Peebles, but it’s also undeniable that his massive popularity was simultaneously positive for the roster as a whole. Without it, it’s very unlikely that Clay’s singles there would’ve ended up partially comprising his debut LP.

But if surely a fruitful association, Clay’s relationship with that now storied company has unfortunately not delivered him from the well-populated ranks of underappreciated soul belters. Where the star of his Hi cohort Syl Johnson has steadily risen to the point where he is now accurately described as a cult figure (with a 4CD/6LP Numero Group box set to his credit), the same circumstance has thus far eluded Clay.

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Who knew that when singer-songwriter duo Lily & Madeleine published their first YouTube video last year, their performance would gain over 300,000 views. The sisters are only teenagers, after all.

But listen to the soulful maturity with which they sing, and you’d swear these young women have been recording for years. It’s no wonder that just one year later the two are releasing a gorgeous full-length album—out just today (10/29) on Asthmatic Kitty Records—and are well on their way to taking the music world by storm.

Despite their adolescence, the duo—that is, Lily and Madeleine Jurkiewicz, ages 16 and 19 respectively—perform with a wisdom beyond their young years. Madeleine’s folkier, almost angelic voice in tandem with Lily’s edgier, more sultry tones yield harmony which could only so seamlessly come from two artists who’ve known each other their whole lives. The result is an effortlessly congruent sound marked by striking simplicity, delicate instrumentation—and raw talent.

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“We have always recorded our history, our art, and our stories in order to safeguard them—to make sure they aren’t forgotten, and to ensure they will outlive us. I believe that physical media is important because it’s the proof that a moment existed.”

“You can hold it in your hands, and take comfort in knowing it’s really there. And as far as music goes, wax is the best. It looks great. It sounds great. Hell, it smells great. This digital thing is the pits if you ask me, because one day the lights are gonna go out, and its all going to be gone–like a dream you forget in the first five minutes of a new day.

Those of us who collect vinyl are more than mere music lovers. We are historians. We’re anthropologists. Digging around at yard sales, thrift stores and flea markets is more than just a hobby. It’s like being freaking Indiana Jones. A decade into my career as a vinyl collector, pulling a gem from a pile of wreckage is still a rush.

Traveling the country, both with the Borrowed Beams, but also with my other group, Invisible Hand, record shopping and crate digging has helped preserve my sanity, given me something to do, to look forward to as we pull into each new city, road-wrecked or homesick.

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